Your Future Awaits

Summary:Thank you to the wonderful Oh, Mike how will I go on for this Perfect Banner!!! Go read her stories!
Bella feels a strong pull towards the Czech Republic, always dreaming of a strange man on the Charles bridge that she can never reach. So when she graduates high school and gets a mysterious letter stating that her tuition to go to university in Prague has been taken care of, she follows fate towards her destiny. But once there, will she finally unravel her mysterious dreams and the stranger within, or the danger lurking beneath them?
AU and yes this is a BxE, but with a few twists along the way...
Rated Adult for Lemon's in the end.

Notes:

18. Painfully Exquisite Pleasure

I returned to Bella's bedroom shortly after 7am, wanting be there when she awoke. I walked silently around her room, picking up books she had lying around, reading the titles. Hmm... Oscar Wilde, Jane Austen, Edgar Allen Poe, Emily Bronte....

I looked at photographs she had on her walls of her friends from high school. There were the same kids in most of them. A tall, medium built boy, with sandy blond hair, the California poster boy jock, most likely Mike. A pretty girl, with curly hair, who evidently admired the California jock. I assumed this was her friend Jessica. Then a couple, the tall girl, very pretty, with a shorter, yet handsome looking guy; They were probably Angela and Ben. Bella had spoken very highly of Angela, and I knew she looked forward to seeing her tonight. I saw a picture of her mother and father holding a bundle wrapped in pink, and I could only assume it was my beautiful Bella.

Behind me, I could hear her heartbeat pick up, and I thought maybe she was awake. I turned to her, a smile on lips waiting to say good morning, until I noticed that she was still asleep. She was moving softly, her head swaying from side to side. I would have gone close to hear her mumblings, but I knew that her sleep talking was incoherent already. I went and softly sat in the old rocking chair in the corner, folding my arms as I watched her.

Her dreams amazed me, she was always so peaceful. I could feel the heat emanating from her body, and could practically see the blush forming on her cheeks. I wondered what had my love blushing so. I heard her softly moan, and I had to work at stifling my own. It was then that I caught the slight scent of her arousal. I stiffened, the gentleman in me wanting to leave and give her privacy, the animal wanting to help relieve her of her 'issue'. I was still contemplating what I should do when she shot up in her bed, sitting straight up, looking upset.

"Bella, love, what is the matter?" I asked, wondering why she woke with such a start. She looked at me confused, and then her confusion cleared.

"Edward? Is that you?" She whispered.

"Yes love, I'm here. I came back wanting to be here when you woke," I explained. She nodded.

"How... how long have you been here?" She asked nervously, her cheeks blushing. She was most likely embarrassed that I might know what she dreamt of.

"Not long. I'm afraid I woke you when I jumped in," I lied smoothly.

"Oh...," She sighed, relieved.

"Did you dream well?" I asked, hoping for a clue.

"Umm... not really. Just crazy dreams, that's all," She said slowly. "I'm.... I'm gonna go shower. I'll see you back here at noon right?" She asked eagerly.

"Yep, noon it is," I said slowly rising and walking towards her. I lowered my lips to her forehead, kissing it lightly. "I love you."

"Love you too," She whispered, still seeming shaken up. Then I jumped out her window and headed back home to await the time when I would return and meet her father.

BPOV

This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't. I almost had a heart attack five minutes ago when I woke up from the most erotic dream of my life, only to find Edward sitting right in front of me. I wanted to die from embarrassment and shame. I was afraid he could read right through me and he would leave and never come back. But when he said he just got there, I sighed in relief, thankful that he was oblivious to what had just transpired. I dearly hoped it wasn't a dream where I talked. Had Edward heard anything about my dream, I'm sure he would have left me.

I stood in my shower, letting the hot water roll off my body, saddened by the fact that the shame could not just be showered off. I let my mind wander, drifting back to my dream.

The room was dark, the only light that shone was from the candelabra by the door. Our lips meet in a passionate embrace as he begins to play with the lacing on my corset. He loosens it quickly, causing the heavy fabric of my dress to pool around my ankles.

I shudder, wishing it could all be taken back. Yet I wanted it to be real, I wanted to feel this.

I hastily make work of the rest of my undergarments, undoing buttons and clasps, allowing the rest of the fabric to lay forgotten with my dress.

"Exquisite," he mumbles, before placing searing kisses along my jaw and down my neck.

I turned the hot water valve even more, scalding my skin. But I knew, no matter how hot I got the water, it wouldn't remove the goose bumps created on my skin by the sensations my dream had caused me. I turned off the water, toweling off my body of all excess water, then I wrapped myself in my robe and made my way back to my room. I threw my dirty clothes in the hamper, and changed into sweats and a hoodie. I paced my room, still tightly wound from my dream. I finally threw myself on my bed and pulled my pillow over my head, exasperated. My mind began to wander again, and this time I let it...

He gently eases me backwards towards the large canopy bed. He places me on the bed, watching as I scoot to rest my head against the pillows. Soon, his clothes are discarded and he moves to cover me, hovering over my body, I can feel the weight of his arousal against me.

He is gentle as he enters me in one swift movement and I can feel him moving inside of me. The room is silent, save for soft sighs, and throaty moans.

I feel myself slowly reach the heights of pleasure and I can feel him come tumbling down after me. He hovers above me, a glorious sheen of sweat coating his face. His beautiful dark hair falling forward into his eyes as he looks at me reverentially. I gasp as I realize it is not Edward, but Victor above me eliciting such painfully exquisite pleasure.

That was when I had woken up to find Edward only feet away from me. I felt dirty, dirty for dreaming of Victor. Of dreaming of Victor's hands on my body, his body inside mine, of the pleasure he no doubt caused me.

But what caused me to feel even worse was that I liked it. I wanted it, and I wanted more. My body craved more. Even now, my heart was still beating wildly as I remembered how his movements gave me such pleasure, that even within a dream I was aroused.

I wanted to feel his hands skimming over my body, feeling every curve and dip just like that in my dream. I wanted his lips to kiss me tenderly above my breast, only to elicit a moan from my lips, as I had dreamt. It was his fingers my body wanted to feel graze the inner part of my thigh towards my aching center. My body needed his inside my own.

Why did my body have to respond in such a way when I was engaged and in love with Edward? I was angry at myself for allowing this. The only hands and body I wanted near mine were Edwards. It disgusted me that my body could want Victor so much, but my heart craved Edward. But I was so confused, because it seemed so real. It felt like it was a memory that had just resurfaced. Most dreams are confusing and mismatched, yet this one was exact and perfect. I could probably draw everything in the room and describe everything in full detail. It was as if my body could remember Victor's touch on my skin, his movements inside me.

Thinking about the sound of his voice in his high sense of pleasure sent shock waves through my body, as if my body were made to respond to that voice. My dreams were becoming too realistic for comfort, I wanted answers. And why had Victor been calling me Marie Ambrosine in my dreams? I never went by Marie, my middle name. And Ambrosine; what did that mean?

I looked to the clock...9am. Great. 3 more hours until Edward came to meet my father. Within that time I would type in the name Marie Ambrosine into google just for fun....